to hell and back
by deadgurlagain
Summary: what happended when Molly stops stammering . M for later chapters if I get the guts ! why because we need more Sherlolly! this was a cure for stammering but I felt this title was more in keeping with the story.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

**Since I felt my other sherlolly fic was getting to the point that it was getting too close to my own pain, I desired to play with this ideal floating in my head. I hope it is better than Blink.(I will be going back to Blink to finish even if only 6 people are reading it. Promise!)**

**Molly couldn't have told you when it started. There wasn't a point that was marked – here is where you made peace with it. She just knew that somehow it had happened, and all she could have told you if we had asked was the date when they both realized it. **

**Was it at the disastrous Christmas party where she had told him off for how he all ways talked to her? No she thought I think maybe earlier than that. Was it when he had told her about Ji-moriarty? Or was it after all the times he manipulated her to get what he want? Or was it the day when he had finally looked and seen her (even though he still hadn't understood her at the time- no that had come later that night) Molly thought that maybe everything in a whole had lead up to the day. The day that counted. The day that she mattered.**

**The day before Sherlock died.**

**The day she realized hat even though he could never love her like she had hoped. That it was OK. She loved him pure and simple. Like John she would do what ever it took to help him. She was all most content that he was a part of her life. It would have been so sadder if she had never know him. Her love had not diminished just her hope and she hadn't even noticed.(someone else had)**

**If we had asked Sherlock when he noticed that Molly had started to change he could have told us the exact moment when his impressive brain told him that Molly that had given up hope. It hadn't been the lab the day she had said that she didn't count(though that had been the beginning of the end). It had been after the fall. after he had broken all the people that he cared for and he had only had her as lifeline to everything. It had been the moment that she told him in her small flat that she loved him.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The day of the fall had been horrendous for Molly, getting all the players together, making that the compound that would make Sherlock appear dead and dealing with her own emotions about what Sherlock had said(you count, you have all ways counted and I have allays trusted you. - what do you need? You.) what did that mean in Sherlock-speak? Had he actually realized that she really cared? Truly cared – not some silly crush but that she cared liked John did. To hell and back if necessary. Was that his way of saying that he cared too? Molly's head was spinning when Sherlock told her she should try to get some rest (ha! like that would happen!) Molly had actually looked at him and spoke her mind. That if she needed to sleep then he certainly did too Moriarty out there or not. Surprising he let her sneak her out of the morgue so that he too could get some form of rest. Who would look for him at Mousy little Molly's flat. Everyone looked her over no one noticed her (except one) Surprising even himself Sherlock followed her out to her car. He would never admit it but tonight he didn't want to be alone. Not if tomorrow he would have to die.**

**The ride to her flat they made plans for after the fall. He was going to hide out at her flat until the media coverage died down and then he would be off to dismantle Moriarty's network of criminals. Molly didn't know what she worried about the most. The fall or the fact he would be in her flat or that he would out there on his own battling God knows what. Sherlock noticed that this Molly Hooper had not stammered once. She had made up her mind to help and that had some how settled her. Why was that? He had noticed that she had been slowly losing the awkwardness that she all ways had around him. A emotion unfurled in his stomach -fear. What if he lost her too? His last tie to his life before all of this!? His last friend. **

**Friend!? Molly Hooper that association had never crossed his mind before. Surprised by his own conclusions he thought over the woman currently driving them to her flat. He thought that his past deductions about her were- not good. She didn't have a small mouth and her figure was pleasing if she ever let her self show it off. (a black dress sliver piping had proved that) she was hard working and loyal. She had compassion and saw the best in everyone. She saw she saw him. The part that even john had not seen. The man that hid behind his self imposed armor. He understood emotions hell he would even admit he had emotions. Problem was his emotions overwhelmed him. to keep himself from them he pushed everyone(well almost everyone) away. How had he missed seeing her till today!? There was all ways something!**

**During the short drive back to her flat, Molly felt Sherlock turn those laser eyes at her. Glancing at the elegant man sitting next to her she wondered what he was seeing. He could deduce a person's history so quickly so why wasn't he spewing out what deductions he had about her, and why did it look like he was smiling? She pondered weather to ask him or not but got to her flat before she got the nerve to ask.**

**The walk up to her flat was quiet, it was late, but at her door Molly panic set in. Oh bollocks she mummered to herself. A close too close Sherlock told her not to worry about the state of her flat. His breath stirred the hair on her neck and Molly felt a shiver run the course of her body. Rolling her eyes that his voice had such an effect on her (did he even know) She unlocked the door and let him in.**

**The flat was what Sherlock had expected all most. Mainly clean and clutter free it said home and comfort. Sitting down in the battered couch(old she had it since Uni ) he jumped right back. Seemed a feline lived with Molly. "Toby his name is Toby try not to sit on him Sherlock... .He doesn't like it." Molly informed him through the giggles. Sherlock felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. **

"**Going to change be right back." Molly said between her remaining giggles. **

**Taking the opportunity he walked around the flat seeing what else he could deduce about this new Molly Hooper. Parents gone-no newer pictures since the horrible fashions of the 80's. Single child. Enjoyed a wide variety of music from the Classics(nice) to the modern crap dance music (lady gaga really! Taylor swift -ugh!)Seemed to like trashy romance novels that involve vampires (not surprising really) and really sappy movies. Likes to cook though doesn't get too many chances with her work schedule. The décor was surprisingly tasteful and kitten free. A framed print of _Sunday afternoon on the Island of Le grande jatte _dominated the sitting room wall. It was her favorite painting other wise why pay so much to have it framed. The others were prints from VanGough (starry night) and signed copies of prints from the comic book artist James O'Barr. Those too must mean a lot to her they were protected in museum quality frames. Some how the contrast between Seurat and the Gothic darkness of The Crow prints both suited Molly. They were both her. Quirking an eyebrow, "The Crow, Molly pretty tragic story line isn't it?"**

**Coming out of her room she paused. Of all the things he cold have said about her flat, that simple question was not what she expected. Going to her kitchen, she started making some hot coca. She thought about her answer. God how to explain this with out sounding like a sappy sentimental fool. Carrying the cups of coco to the sitting room she gave up and just told the truth.**

**Handing Sherlock his cup she settled down into the corner of her sofa. "I guess you could say that but the driving force of the movie was pretty moving." Taking a breath to brace herself she finished her thought. "The underlying meaning of movie and comic books was that Love never dies. For Eric it was strong enough to bring him back to correct the wrong that had been done to both him and Shelly." Looking up from her cup she waited for him to ridicule her from silly notions but the detective looked like he was truly considering what she had said. He looked so lost so alone it broke her heart how alone he allays seemed. Before she knew it she had set her drink down and had moved over to where she was sitting next to him proper. She tentatively touched his hand to bring him back from where ever this thoughts had taken him.**

"**It actually reminds me of you, Sherlock." That made him raise his head and look at her. Before he could speak she continued. " it's kinda like what you are doing. You are willing to …. well die. To fix the problem of Ji-moriarty. Then in your death you plan to right the injustice. To stop it so it can't touch those you care about, and you do care about them. John, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson you care greatly about them and that is love in my book. You might not recognize it in yourself, but I do." with that she moved a little away from him.**

**He watched her move slightly away from him, disturbed by what she said. Not that she had given name to what he felt for his chosen companions(his friends maybe his chosen family?) that he suspected was a correct deduction on her part. What made him upset was that she hadn't included herself in that list. Hadn't she understood what he had told her. That she counted and that he had all ways trusted her. Did she not understand just what that had meant for him to say?**

**Since Sherlock didn't seem to in the mood to respond to what she had said and seemed to be in deep in thought . She got up and headed to her spare bedroom to tidy it up bit. A few minutes she came out and he hadn't moved. Walking over to the still form she placed her hand on his shoulder.**

"**Sherlock try to get some sleep tonight. I got the room ready for you , there is a dressing gown that you can use. Bathroom is to the left down the hall, but I am heading to sleep. I am beat."**

**Like a snake his hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Molly , is that truly what you think. That I am doing this out of of ...um sentiment? For my friends." He looked scared like his greatest failing was there for everyone to see. No he just looked scared, worried. Molly took a small step toward him. Her voice was quiet but steady. "yes it is Sherlock. You care for them. If you were any one else it would be called love. Brotherly love ,love of family but love none the less . You feel things so intensely that for you to say you care. It is saying you love and my dear Sherlock. Love never dies." Patting his hand to indicate let go, she turned and left him to think that over.**


	3. Chapter 3 his mind palace

CHAPTER 3

**Thanks for the kind words everyone. They do mean a lot to me and here we go again. Keep all hands inside the cart and enjoy your ride.**

**Sherlock watched Molly leave. An amused (at least for him) glint in his eye noted the horrible choice of sleep wear Molly was sporting fuzzy flannel Eeyore pj bottoms and oversized uni t shirt. Has she no fashion sense? Or was her self esteem so low that she was in the realm of why bother. She really did look amazing if she put forth an effort. Glad for just a mundane distraction he tried to figure out what out fabric and outfit combo would look great on Molly. Like a giant fashion plate in his mind he tried cottons silks velvets in combos of shirts, pants, skits and shoes. At the end he could see her in a crisp Egyptian cotton button down with a black pin stripped shirt and knee high leather boots. Her hair would be down or at least pulled to the side(both looks suited her) and she would be wearing minimal makeup. Thinking he had finished putting a new look for her together he smiled. Then his mind added the finishing touches without his conscious thought. Wire rimmed glasses appeared on her face accenting her eyes and a black pin stripped neck tie was hanging loose from the button down. **

**With a gasp Sherlock pulled himself from the vision of Molly **

**Hooper dressed so so sexy. **

**Disturbed by this thoughts. He started to pace the confines of the small apartment. Where had that come from? He had never thought of her that way before. (he really never thought of anyone that way before). He thought well I'll just delete it and that would take care of that but it wouldn't be deleted. He could delete his knowledge of how the solar system worked but could not delete the image of his pathologist dressed in what he would dress her in. **

**He figured just will have to hide it away then if will not be deleted. So he settled into the oversized leather chair (her favorite chair for reading based on the wear of it) and went to his mind palace to do just that.**

**Now everyone that Sherlock had repeat dealings with had a place in his palace (dona van and Anderson a shared shelf above the loo) and each place(room really) took on the personality of the person it represented. John's room was neat orderly in warm browns. The sofa(they all had sofas) was a copy of the one in the sitting room. On the walls like photos were memories of him and John. The palace, the first time they met, the giggle after chasing the cab all hung there to be taken down and remembered. Knowing what was to come Sherlock backed out of the room, he would be needing this room to get through what was to come. **

**Lestrade's room was his Yard office. Pictures dotted the walls here too ****but his knowledge of the inspector where all stored in the file cabinets next to the desk. Knowing everything was in order here, he moved on to the next room.**

**Mrs. Hudson's room was a kitchen. her Baker st kitchen to be precise. It was homey and smelled like baking biscuits. Snap shots of their friendship dotted the space, all of his knowledge of his landlady(never housekeeper) was stored in the cupboards. After sneaking a biscuit from the fridge he left the room and continued his inspection.**

**At the end of the hall he came to Molly's room. He hadn't really ever set foot into it before. Hand on the door handle he paused. He tended to just ignore what ever he learned about molly just throwing into the room with out much thought. Maybe that is why he couldn't delete that ideal he had about her. Opening the door he immediate closed it. Her room was in chaos. Nothing had been sorted it was all there , strewn about. It was just a gray sterile place. the photos that should have been on the wall or at least in frames peeked out from stacks of papers. Each piece of paper was something he knew about Molly but had never bothered to really look at it. He knew that he had to go in there and at least start sorting it out but apprehensive about it. He turned around and walked out of his mind palace.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Thanks for all the kinds words guys! They really put a big smile on my face. So with out further delay. We will head back into Molly's room. Mind the gap.**

**Sherlock opened his eyes. How could he had let that room get to that state? Everything else was in order filed or deleted. Why had he never gone in there to file it away. He felt like he did when he got something wrong. He had named her a friend but his friends had orderly rooms. Had he got that wrong? Or was it that he just hadn't realized that he needed to put the room in order. That was it. Since she was the newest addition to his friends (his chosen family) serves that her room be the least put together. More settled now he closed his eyes and opened the door.**

**Surveying the room first thing that needed doing was gathering up all the papers that were scattered all across the room. With a thought it was done. Then he imagined that his desk from Baker st sat under the window. Next he populated the room with a copy of the chair he was currently sitting in since it was comfortable and this was molly's room. He thought for a moment that her room should look like the lab but dismissed it. Her work was only part of who she was. So the room slowly morphed into a copy of her sitting room though a bit larger. The walls where a pale coral and sturdy if uninspired furniture dotted the space. Feeling that it was all ready feeling like Moll's space. He sat down at the desk and started sorting through everything he knew and had been through with Molly Hooper.**

**The first was a memory of the day they had met. Quiet reserved Molly had shook his hand and He had been unimpressed with her. He did know she was the youngest pathologist in Bart's history so she was smart. Just not impressive at first meeting. He saved that one. Lots of pages later of things that were not important – coffee, autopsies of natural if unusual deaths- he had a stack of misc information. Then he came to another page. The first time she impressed him. That case with the warafin poisoning her deductions, not his, had solved the case. That started another stack. As he kept working through the papers (we are talking 6 years worth of info) he started noticing a pattern. After the second year pictures started to be interspersed with the papers. Them having coffee in the canteen or sharing a lunch or just a snapshot of Molly herself. She styled her hair differently that day, got a new skirt or for goodness sake that kitten jumper! Or her just looking over the microscope intent on her research. That was the next to last one that was pleasant. Sherlock rubbed his eyes knowing what the next batch of papers and photos would bring. **

**A smiling Molly Hooper shaking hands with John Watson. It was the last happy picture of her he had. The others he came across showed pain in her eyes and the closer he got to the bottom of the stack of photos. He realized that he had been the cause of all that pain. Not comfortable with the thought he turned back to the papers hoping his deductions were not wrong.**

**The papers didn't not make it any better there were more of I have caused her pain and I have used her again to the facts of what he knew about her. Sherlock stopped and looked at what he had sorted all ready and he was disappointed in himself. Had he never done anything but hurt this woman?**

**Taking a look away from the paperwork left to go through Sherlock was surprised to see that Molly's room had dramaticly changed. Gone were the soft coral walls and in it's place was dark stained paper of undetermined color and the furniture that was sturdy and comfortable was now worn down. It reflected the damage that he had inflicted over her. **

**He had only got thru half of the pile and he hated the thought what the state of her room would be by the time he finished with it. Not paying attention he pulled the next photo out to inspect it. A groan escaped him. There was molly looking stunning in a black dress with silver piping. Her hair was hanging in loose in soft waves. That horrible Christmas. He had cut her to the bone with his words. She had stood up to him that night and telling him how he was awful to her always. Sherlock remembered how he felt when he realized that the present he had been for him. Like he had been punched. Molly Hooper had luuuuuuuuuuv on her mind and her mind was on him.**

**He remembered to try and not to be so horrible to her after that.(he didn't all ways succeed) but he tried and Molly seemed to not stammer around him as much. The last papers were all just bits he learned from her through her observations and her autopsies. Looking up at the room it had brightened up some but wasn't back to it's original décor. There were only a few things left to sort and he would be done. The last photos were from today, how sad she was when she said she didn't count. How brilliant she was. She had seen him through the masks through the hateful spiteful words. She had seen and understood. She had left Sherlock stunned. **

**He understood that afternoon when he left what he was going to have to do if any of them were to be safe. He also knew that he was going to have to take a leaf of faith(the first one)and trust another person.**

**The last photo sat there on the desk it was a Molly's darkened lab. Picking it up it started playing like a digital recording.**

"**you were wrong you know, you do count you've all ways counted and I have always trusted you. But you were right- I'm not OK." Sherlock remembered how his voice sounded choked as he talked to her this, god was it just a few hours ago. How she sounded, she was the one that sounded brave, certain and sure of herself. **

"**tell me what's wrong."**

"**Molly I think I am going to die," her response gave strength to Sherlock's voice.**

"**what do you need?" Still strong no hesitation no question just Molly being brave for both of them. Her just standing there tears in her eyes. being resolute in his need for her to be strong for him.**

"**if I wasn't everything you think I am, everything I think I am would you still want to help me?" **

"**what do you need?"**

**Sherlock stepped closer to Molly, unshed tears in his eyes. Tears for them both because he finally understood what she had been telling him all this time. He had thrown it away her caring. He had pushed it here into this room to be ignored. What do you need was how she told him that she loved him simply – to hell and back. So he gave her the only truthful answer he had.**

"**you"**

**Sherlock sat there and thought about how he felt toward his pathologist. Did he feel something toward her in return. Friendship no it felt nothing like he felt for John. It was close but it felt different. So what was it.**

**Looking around the room he was glad to see the photos (the happy ones at least and the Christmas photo and his last ideal picture of her in that outfit) in the walls. The walls were back to the right shade of coral and the room felt right. The room also felt safe and warm. Sherlock went and laid down upon the couch and before he knew it he drifted off to sleep.**


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

I would like to thank all the people who have reviewed this love letter so far. You inspire the plot bunnies greatly. After this one is finished (I feel maybe 4 more chapters) I have two bunnies in the wings. One is teacher Sherlock(undercover)/Molly and the other is a John Sherlock story. I don't ship john-lock unless its um 3 person adult story(you figure it out) but it is how I view John as a batman thanks wiki

Duties

A batman's duties often include:

acting as a "runner" to convey orders from the officer to subordinates

maintaining the officer's uniform and personal equipment as a valet

driving the officer's vehicle, sometimes under combat conditions

acting as the officer's bodyguard in combat

other miscellaneous tasks the officer does not have time or inclination to do

And will have that bent.

And after that we will see where the bunnies (damn you blue bell) take me!

Thanks again and on with the show!

Molly had finally drifted off to sleep. The days ups and down had finally caught up with her. Tears were drying on her face and pillow when the dream started.

Her lab her haven was cold . Colder than she normally kept it . The main table looked like an altar with the bright overhead light shining down on it. The bag that held him lay there like some offering to an angry god of old. Somewhere her subconscious screamed not real just a dream, you do not have to go and open that bag. This isn't real! Her heart couldn't hear it though it was screaming for her to help and make sure he was all right.

Ignoring the growing apprehension she felt(its a dream not real no don't!) she went to keep her promise to Sherlock to help. Zipping the bag open she heard felt the sob that escaped her. There he was bloodied and broken the man she loved beyond all hope and reason. For a moment it felt real. That he wasn't going to wake up any minute. That she would never see him walk into the morgue and look at her with his tri-colored eyes. Ever again.

She busied herself with cleaning the blood of his face then noticed the time.3 mins had pasted how much longer did she need to wait? Then it creeped to5 minutes . The fear and panic were clawing at her she went and got the adrenalin injection they pilfered yesterday ready to go. The drug had slowed his respiratory functions and his heartbeat. The laundry lorrie had cushioned his fall but what if it still had gone horribly wrong? Not able to wait Molly opened his shirt and located the lowest part of the breast bone …. with a silent prayer to any God who would have mercy, she jabbed the needle directly into Sherlock s heart and nothing happened.

A agonized scream startled Sherlock out of sleep – he looked around the flat then got up and practically ran to Molly's room. He burst through the door expecting a fight with some enemy. What he found was his pathologist crumpled on the floor, her eyes glazed over still trapped in what ever nightmare she was having.

Seeing Molly so distraught even asleep moved Sherlock. He could deduce but not know what her nightmare was and he knew that he was the cause of this pain too. (god will her room ever have happy memories in it!) walking quietly to her he sat down beside her. Unsure of himself he tried to wake her.

"molly wake up. You are having a bad dream." no response.

She sat there sobbing twisting her hands wringing them like she did when she finished an autopsy(Out out damned spot!)and Sherlock didn't think. He just took both of her hands in his and tried again.

"Molly I am here. I am alive thanks to you. I am not dead. Open your eyes Molly. I can't do this with out you. So please open your eyes." then he gave her hands a squeeze.

Molly came too with a gasp. Her eyes flew open terror showing clearly in her eyes . First she looked to her hands in his(such amazing hands really) then tracked them up to the person they belonged too. Sherlock watched with wonder as the terror was replaced by joy(joy yes that is what I am seeing) and his somewhat nonexistent heart lurched he felt it actually hurt.

"I am so sorry Molly Hooper that I have caused you so much pain."(what did I actually say that I meant to ask if she was OK now!)

Seeing the pained expression on his face before his mask slid into place, Molly shattered she flung her arms around his neck and sobbed into Sherlock's chest. The fear of the nightmare, the joy of him still in the land of the living and the terror of tomorrow were just too much to sort. On top of the fact that she loved him – to hell and back. She only cried for a few minutes before she pulled herself together and noticed the Sherlock was lazily rubbing circles on her back comforting her. With a sigh she pulled away from him slightly to look at him as if this moment was for her mind palace(was more of a Sherlock shrine than palace) and she didn't want to miss anything about it.

He was still breath takingly handsome, still brilliant still Sherlock and he was holding her(down girl breath)His eyes that could be so cold and cutting were partially closed. In that moment Molly shy timid molly knew that she had two choices. Either take her heart into her own hands and kiss Sherlock or pull away and wonder what if for the rest of her life.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I found a lover for the first time in my life,  
You took me out of the wilderness,  
Just like a diamond, you were shining bright, through the night  
And let me stay in your arms to rest

Paul Van Dyk  
For An Angel (Found A Lover) lyrics

**OK guys we enter the smutty stuff now. So definitely m and if I really bollocks this up let me know gently. After all it is my first time (Sherlock's too)**

**love and kisses **

**deadgurlagain**

**xxx**

Sherlock felt Molly start to pull away then stop. Curious he raised his eyes to her. She looked like she was going to completely pull away from him and he realized that he didn't want her to leave but didn't know what to do to make her stay. The pain in his chest was overwhelming. He felt broken inside(well he does break everything and everyone so why not himself) his hands tightened and he pulled her back to his chest. A sigh was all the expression he allowed himself. She made it bearable, that pain, but he didn't understand why.

Molly's inner debate was in full swing when Sherlock pulled her into the hug. When had her arms got around his waist? She just closed her eyes and savored the feel of his chest against her cheek. He even smelled like she thought. Spicy and sweet like a clove with undertones of something woodsy and something decidedly male. The debate still raged inside her to finally be brave enough to at least try. When Sherlock's hand started stroking her hair. The mousy side of molly conceded the battle to her brave side. The side that was – to hell and back.

When she pulled away again(he had no ideal what was coming) Sherlock was not ready for it. When he could see her face he didn't understand what he was seeing. It was the same determined face he had seen in the morgue. Did she really want to get away from him? Saddened by that thought his hands dropped to his sides.

Molly saw the look but did not comprehend it (it went against years of her knowledge of Sherlock)but was determined to go through with her decision. Even if it killed her(and if he rejected her it probably would) she placed her hand gently on the face of the man she loved with everything she was. As she slowly leaned in a prayer pasted her lips. "please just give me this." and with that she kissed Sherlock Holmes.

The kiss was chaste nothing too racy but Sherlock was well gobsmacked. His emotions were everywhere. Molly was kissing him! What did he think about that (lips definitely not too small!)and more importantly how had she stopped that terrible pain? These thoughts lasted for about 5 seconds because Molly leaned into him and he felt the tip of her tongue come out and gently lick the corner of his mouth. A soft sigh came from whom? Her? No he realized he was the one who had sighed. He tentatively brought his arms around her and started to kiss her back, mirroring what she was doing to him. This time it was Molly that made a sound. Smiling through the kiss the detective reached up and wound his hands through molly's long tresses giving then a slight tug. The moan that came from molly fed some purely masculine, sexual side of Sherlock that he had never felt or seen before today.

He stilled the kiss long enough to catch his breath , his shared breath with Molly. Resting his forehead on hers he purred at Molly.

"liked that didn't you?"

Molly, stunned at his tone of voice opened her eyes and leaned back a bit. Sherlock was relaxed but his pupils were blown his breath erratic and his pulse well she could feel that on her own skin it was so strong and fast. Her brave side, no not just her brave side all the things that made her Molly, smiled up at Sherlock and teased him. She flirted with Sherlock Holmes!

" My dear Sherlock you do know that turn about is fair game ?" and before he could even smirk she was kissing him again this time pushing her tongue gently between his lips asking for entrance. She moaned again when he parted his lips and they each started exploring one other. Her hand trailed over his arm slowly which brought a small shiver from the detective. Then to his shoulders then his neck. Reaching the back of his head she buried both hand into his hair. Finding the curls soft and clingy (like snakes they wrapped them selves around her fingers) she just kept playing with his hair.

She had to chuckle when that got a louder moan from Sherlock.

Not wanting to break the spell she kissed his cheek then moved to his neck. Nibbling and kissing upward she reached that sweet spot right below and behind the ear. She breathed into his ear softly "Sherlock I need …..you."


	7. Chapter 7 too many clothes

CHAPTER 7

y dennis deyoung (for Paul)  
Lead vocals by Dennis younger

As I reach out and touch your face  
The moon lights up our first embrace  
But please don't hesitate  
Hold my hand, don't be afraid  
Of the feelings in your heart  
Just close your eyes, no one will mind  
If we're to fall in love this first time  
It's the first time  
The first time for love  
There could be so many worlds and mountains  
We could climb  
Together, the two of us tonight  
The two of us, we're quite a pair  
These lonely nights we both can share  
So don't be shy, 'cause it's okay  
I understand feeling that way  
Hold my hand, don't be afraid  
Of the feelings in your heart  
Close your eyes, no one will mind  
If we're to fall in love this first time

Man don't know if I can do this next chapter! All ready blushing like a schoolgirl and grinning like Anderson. Oh well time for the penny to drop so here it goes!

At molly's statement Sherlock stilled. Molly tensed thinking that she blew it. She hadn't realized that she was holding her breath waiting for him to do or say anything. Not sure what he wanted he stood up and reached his hand out to help Molly off the floor. Thinking she had just made herself the biggest fool she hung her head down. She couldn't bear to look at Sherlock now and she wasn't going to give him any more tears. She stopped breathing when Sherlock place a hand on her chin and raised her head up.

"why?" was the only word he could get out. His throat had closed up and he felt what... fear anticipation desire hope? He eyes kept dancing across her face and waited for her.

Molly took a steadying breath, and said what was on her heart.

"Sherlock I love you. I have for quite sometime. I know you can't return my feelings, I know you care and it is enough for me. After tonight I may never see you again and that thought is killing me so for tonight. I want you no expectations nothing more than you being here with me. I simply want you." She bit her bottom lip waiting. Hope had blossomed again in her heart and she had just handed it over to Sherlock.

Sherlock took in what she had said. Why did she think that he didn't feel? He felt too much right now. She was smart beautiful sexy(who knew?) and for some reason she loved him. He knew he cared for her but love? Could what he be feeling love, he had no reference for it so couldn't recognize it in himself. He knew he wanted her in every-way she took away his pain.

Wanting more, wanting everything she had to give. He step up to her and cupped her face. Leaning down into her space-her gravity- he leaned in close to her ear and said "yes."

His lips met hers with a hunger that he barely could hold back. His hands roamed over her body. Wanting something more not sure what his hands just kept playing with her back and hair.

Molly met his hunger with her own. Six years of wanting. Six years of dreams of hope. Wanting so much more she took the lead. She slipped her hands up to the buttons on his shirt. With a wordless question she asked permission he just nodded. With unbearable slowness she exposed the toned trim chest. Leaning in she placed a hand over his heart. Feeling his racing pulse she skimmed her hands over his nipples. At the sensation Sherlock growled deep in his throat. Molly pushed him down gently till they were on her bed. Laying down half on half off him she explored him. His chest, collarbones, face and settling onto his neck she found her favorite place on a man's body.

The juncture where the neck meets the shoulders so yummy she thought . She nibbled and then bite down a little harder. When Sherlock bucked under her. Molly moaned. The vibration went right through him. He grabbed her and flipped her unto her back, pinning both arms above her head. Staring intently at her , he left one hand there to keep her trapped and started to unbutton her shirt. Both of them were breathing hard trying to slow down. Sherlock thought he had never seen something so lovely. She was flushed all over it seems, her brown eyes were b rite but were all for him.

After sliding the shirt off her, he recaptured her arms back above her head. He then laid his head down between her breasts and just listened to her heart. "Molly I am not sure what I am doing here. I know I want to but I need you to to..." Molly heard the confusion in his voice. She smiled and ran he fingers through his dark curls.

" we can take it slow follow you instincts ," Molly's voice so soft accepting so loving. He leaned over and nuzzled her right breast at her gasp. He felt emboldened. He used his teeth to graze the nub the was pressing against her bra. Molly arched as if electricity had ran through her. He slipped his arms under her and pulled her to him. His kiss was everywhere. His hands fumbled with the back clasp of the bra. Chuckling Molly showed him that it was a front clasped bra. Laughing at himself (its all ways something) he resumed what he was doing.

He gave lavish attention to both her breasts , all the while Molly held his head almost cradling him there. He moved up and down her torso tasting everywhere. He cataloged every moan, every gasp every reaction he recorded and memorized.

Molly reveled in the sweet torture that Sherlock was doing to her. A smile lite up her face. Pulling on his hair to get his attention he pulled him back to her mouth. After an another passionate kiss that left her breathless. She locked her arms around his waist and rolled him unto his back. Then she straddled him Pinning his arms above his head. His smirk was warm and amused but he let her.

Laying slight weight upon him she went back to his neck. She felt him against her leg. He was aroused. Pulling up she looked him in his eyes. The question there in her eyes but to be sure she had to ask.

"Sherlock are you sure. We can stop now if you need to. Or want to."

all most growling he gave his answer.

"Molly I think we are both wearing too much clothes, don't you think?"

authors note - I know I am so evil but it is late and I am really going to have to pysche myself out for what comes next. So till next time (bwah hahahahaahah) dga!


	8. Chapter 8 SAFE HARBOR

**Chapter 8**

**an; sorry so long in updating guys life has been kinda hellish for me lately. So I hope this weekend I can get some writing done for my own sanity! Thanks for hanging with me and hope you enjoy.**

Take me I'm yours (take me)  
Now I'm coming up for air (I'm yours)  
I'm gonna live my time for the rest of my life  
Then I'll be coming back for more- erasure  
More

Molly just closed her eyes... .It was something out of her dreams-Sherlock asking her to take off her clothes. Scared of breaking the spell she complied. She crawled off of him a gracefully as she could.(no one had ever been able to make that look sexy she thought.) standing at the foot of the bed she slowly dropped her skirt to the floor all the time holding Sherlock's gaze. Her knickers followed shortly after. Her first instinct was to cover herself but he stopped her with a breathless "no." Feeling bold she crawled upon the bed and started to help the detective out his now ill fitting pants. Once that blasted belt was undone -why did they make them so hard to undo! She slowly ran her fingers up his erection a slight caress that make Sherlock gasp and look at Molly. She looked like a goddess kneeling beside him. Her face was in profile and a slight hungry smile tugged at her lips. She gave him another slight rub with a bit more of her hand and was rewarding by a groan that reverberated all the way down into her very center.

Sherlock was about to rip of his pants or crawl out of his own skin, he wasn't sure which. The sensations were nothing he had expected. He felt overwhelmed by his pathologist and what she doing to him and for him. When her hands went to lower his pants (when had she undone the button or the fly?) He stilled suddenly nervous about what was going to happen. What would this act do to him? Would he still be Sherlock Holmes or would he become ordinary? The thought terrified him for his own identity was tied to his intellect would this diminish him just when he needed to be at the top of his mental capabilities?

Sensing that he had stilled and was trying to regain some composure, Molly stopped and looked at him. She saw his fear and confusion. She smiled up at him and moved to where her head rested on his chest. Her hand she placed over his heart.

"what is it? What's wrong?" a tear escaped from her eye but she ignored it. This is where he says stop. She thought.

"I am scared Molly. Properly scared. Of failing, of falling, and what will happen to me if we continue." Molly raised up and got to where she could see him. Before she could speak he continued.

"I have all ways felt (or been told) that sentiment was a weakness and it reduces people to their base needs. It clouds intellect and I am desperately going to need my mind to be clear for what I have to do. I want this with you Molly Hooper but what happens to me after wards? These sensations are overwhelming I can't process it."

Molly thought about what he said. For a moment biting her bottom lip(had he ever thought they were small?)when the answer came to her.

"Sherlock don't try to just experience it. For once let your body rule the mind and feel it. You can sort it all out at a later time. But for now just be." She leaned in a placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then moved her lips close to his ear and breathed "anyway if you really enjoy yourself look at it as a reason to come back home."

she waited there in the moonlight while Sherlock just looked at her. She gave so much to them all, to him, and never asked for anything in return. how had he not seen her before today? Her words made him smile. Little mousy molly was brave, so much braver than he was. She was brave enough to give him her heart know that he broke everything he touched. She trusted him that much. She knew him all most as well … no she saw him better than John did, and still was willing to give him her heart.

Sherlock leaned in a kissed her like a condemned man(and he was, wasn't he).His hands where everywhere like he wanted to map every inch of her skin, commit it to memory. Then he finished what molly had started, making very short work of his offending pants and boxers in a shimmy that would have made Madi Hari proud.

Molly had not stopped kissing Sherlock through out the whole time so when she came up for air (for she was drowning and did not want to be saved) she noticed well him. He was larger than she expected and it sent a wicked shiver through her. She draped her self over him covering him like a hastily wrapped sheet. Her hands started tracing patterns on his chest and trailed down wards. Looking up at her detective and yes if she was his pathologist the he was definitely her detective, she let her hand slowly drop down till she was able to take him in hand. He felt like silk and steel and she gently gave him a slow stroke. The guttural moan and shiver she got in response thrilled her. She wanted him undone at her hands. She wanted to see him unmasked all armor thrown aside if for a shining moment.

She leaned over him and trailed kisses down his chest. .Her hair sliding across his torso felt like silk and sin to Sherlock. His hands came up and buried them in her tresses.(yes they were as soft as he thought they would be) Then Molly poured liquid heat on him when she took him into her mouth.

"Molly ahhhh fuck arghhhh" with a smile she started to slowly lick up and down alternating with light nibbles along the shaft. All Sherlock could do was try to slow his breathing he felt like he couldn't get enough air. His hands stayed fisted in her hair gently tugging and pulling. He pulled too hard and that broke his euphoria – had he hurt her? But her moan told him a different answer. Closing his eyes again he gave himself back over to her ministrations.

Molly for her part was beyond enjoying this. The man she never thought to reach, her impossible hope, was here now with her. She savored every moan every shiver. She had no delusions of a future with this man except to be there for him, to love him – to hell – to death- and back.

Sherlock knew that if this didn't stop it would be over before it really began. So with a gentle tug he directed her attention back to his face(she is so beautiful right now) and she came willing back to kiss him again. Now the kisses were more. Her 6 years of longing she put into that kiss. Her years that she loved him for just him.

"Molly molly molly" he whispered against her lips a mantra against the pain, the fear. A balm for his soul. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled until she was beneath him. His eyes locked with hers, His tri – colored kaleidoscope eyes to her warm brown depths, The question was there in his face a silent plea for what Molly wasn't sure but when had she denied him anything? She raised her hands up to cup his face.

"yes."

with that Sherlock used his knee to open her legs up for him. He positioned himself right at her opening. He could feel against his member how ready she was for him but looked at her once again. Seeking her acquiescence to what he wanted to do.

"yes" was all she said again. She saw what he asked in his eyes what he needed from her in that moment and afterward. She would be his anchor his reason to come back his safe harbor. His only connection to the life that would be no more after tomorrow.

He took his time entering her , savoring every sensation. Molly's moan at the feeling of impalement made him want to just let go and claim her in every way to mark her as mine. He kept the slow pace until he was fully in side her. Resting his forehead against her he sighed then kissed her face then moved onto her neck. His breath felt like a dragon was scorching her skin and she welcomed the burn. He kissed her forever it seemed till Molly couldn't take the stillness any more. She started to move underneath him or tried too he was so much taller than her so leverage in this position was nearly impossible for her. She didn't even recognize her voice. It was lower and raspy "Please Sherlock...I need... oh god …. please."

He responded by setting a slow pace at first. She felt so incredible , it felt so incredible to be so connected . Without conscious thought his hips started to speed up the rate of his thrusts and the primal part of his brain wanted more. More of this more of Molly Molly obliged by raising her hips to meet each thrust. He could feel the trembling in her thighs and though having never done this before he could tell she was close to letting go. The thought of her release drove him on. His thrusts got harder he snaked his arms under her shoulders till she was truly pinned by him. Words were spilling from him with no thought behind them.

"that feels sooo fucking incredible- you feel incredible!" at the language Molly bucked under him. Nuzzling her he growled yes growled at her . The rumble of his voice saying "mine mine mine" took her to the brink and when he bit down hard on that oh so sweet spot on her neck. She completely unraveled. Her motions were no longer coordinated and all that the flat heard was the sound of them coming together and her gasps.

"Sherlock... love …. don't stop … yes... oh my dear Sherlock!"

On the frantic call of his name He joined her. The sensation of it was a tsunami Sherlock pounded into her calling her name over and over, as he spilled into her. She held him watching his face the whole time. If his eyes had been opened he would have seen the single tear that fell from her eyes and all the love that she had for him. But he missed it (it was all ways something right?) The tear was gone when he opened his eyes and all he saw Molly's smile.

When he went to clean up Molly felt bereft. She knew now . She knew him as no one else did and tomorrow he could be gone. She wouldn't have missed it for the world she knew but it still saddened her just a bit. She busied herself with changing out the sheets and When she heard the water shut off she grabbed a dressing robe and waited for him to emerge.

Her smile was the first thing he saw . It seemed too brite not quite genuine not quite Molly unsure (god he hated that sensation) he stopped her at the door.

"are you OK Molly?" his uncertainty was touching. It was the Sherlock he kept under wraps so no one could see. Her smile became a true smile.

"Yes Sherlock I am. That was quite amazing. You were wonderful." Standing on her tip toes she placed a gentle kiss on his mouth." now I want to shower and to crawl back into bed and for us both try to get some rest."

She let the tears flow in the shower and did not sob. No that would be afterward s when he was gone. Taking a deep breath she found the strength to go back into the room where he was waiting.

She climbed in to bed and patted the empty side. "come to bed Sherlock you need to rest. Please." she was surprised when he didn't put up a fight but climbed under the covers with her. She laid her hear on his chest and just listened to him breathe. She replayed everything that had happened had it only been 12 hours really?

When his breath had evened out and she was sure he was asleep the last thing she did before sleep claimed her was to whisper the truth into the dark.

"I love you Sherlock Holmes I all ways have and all ways will."

What she couldn't know or see what the wide eyed look of shock on the face of the world's only consulting detective.

Authors note – so threw some references out their for you fangirls and guys to find. Hope you enjoyed It was up to 1 am getting this ready to go for you so if it is really cocked up(snerk) I blame lack of sleep. I think I will take this till he comes back home to play with my headcanon a bit . I mean who did he have to take out besides Moran and those snipers hmm. Ohh the plot bunnies are getting busy .

LATERS

DGA!


	9. Chapter 9 the fall

Chapter 9

The next day was the worst of Molly's life. When she woke up Sherlock had all ready left. Feeling lost she, showered and got ready for the day. No skirts today she would need to be able to move freely. Her heart was heavy, replaying the events from last night. She flipped from dread for the day to giddiness from last night to fear for Sherlock and what it had meant to him. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts she missed him walking in. it wasn' t until his warm hands rested on her shoulders that his presence registered to her.

"hello Molly." his breath was right on her ear.

Molly closed her eyes trying to still the shiver that it sent down her spine and how her pulse reacted to just those two words. Sherlock missed neither one of them but continued with his business. "are we ready for this?"

Molly nodded and ran thru all their preparations knowing it all had to be perfect. Sherlock agreed they were ready now they just had to wait for right time.

A few hours later it was done. Molly was back in the morgue and Sherlock was laying upon a slab waiting for the compound to leave his system. Paperwork forged (illegal? Didn't matter) duplicate body, autopsied and bagged back up. The fear from last night's nightmare was slowly becoming real. He hadn't woke up and they were reaching the five minute mark. Molly prayed she would not have to use the adrenalin injection she had, but she would.

She figured Sherlock had a few broken ribs maybe a concussion but until he woke up she wouldn't be sure. She had his new clothes ready for him.. why hadn't he woke up.. had it all gone wrong... unable to stay away she went and checked again for his very slow pulse. A repeating word kept falling from her lips. Please please please …. thump thump... a sigh/sob escaped her. She bent over him wiping the hair away from his face. "Sherlock wake up..."his eyes opened slowly.. and met the tearful eyes of Molly Hooper.

Upon Seeing those tri-colored eyes, Molly stood up. A quite "welcome back" was all she said. Sherlock still woozy from the drug tried to sit up and was met with a lot of pain. Molly saw the look of pain cross his face and went to help him sit up.

"Feels like a couple of bruised or broken ribs..." Sherlock grumbled. "the laundry wasn't as full as we had hoped, was it?"

Molly smiled at her detectives train of thought. "no I guess not, Sherlock."

"let's get you sorted then. After that I'll get you back to the flat. It's going to be a while before you heal …." Molly didn't finish the thought out loud, _and you leave me._

Sherlock looked around the lab, his eyes settled on the bag that contained "his body." then to her desk where his file was sitting.

"have they come to identify the body yet Molly?" He didn't specify who but Molly heard the names none the less.

"no, not yet. I wanted you out of the way before... they came and I couldn't bear putting you into one …. of..the.. vaults." Molly looked away from him then. It was all most too real that he could have died and that she would have had to do just that.

Molly swallowed her fear and continued "lets get these ribs wrapped and that head wound cleaned and then I can put you … I don't know where yet. And then I'll call them down. I have the door locked so we need to get this done quickly."

fifteen minutes later Sherlock was bandaged, his head wound was cleaned up and he was wearing new clothes. He didn't recognize himself. Gone were the suit, the coat, the ever present scarf and in it's place was a man with slicked back hair wearing a blue gray t-shirt with a bridge on it, ratty jeans and a leather bomber jacket (a least it had a nice wide collar) he was holding some kind of cap in his hand, _at least it's not a death Frisbee. _

Molly had stuck him in the broom closet as soon as she knew that John and Mycroft were on the way back to Bart's. She dreaded what was coming. The start of all the lies that she would have to tell to keep the secret. A necessary evil if Sherlock and the others were to stay safe. She didn't bother fixing her make-up because the tears stains would only sell the facade that Sherlock was dead.

Mycroft's and John's argument was cut short as soon as they walked in. At John's appearance molly's heart sank. He was bleeding from a cut on his head and his face bore the signs of crying. She walked up to him and after another quick once over she grabbed his hand and walked him to her chair.

"sit down and let me take a look at that John." John started to protest but Molly shook her head. "No John. The living first... the.. the dead can wait." She turned to Mycroft "and so can you. Mycroft. I'll answer your questions but I am taking care of John first."

Grabbing the kit she kept handy for Sherlock... she cleaned and stitched up the laceration on John's scalp. She turned and took a huge breath.

"OK" on that word she seemed to shrink. The pain of what was to happen next settled on her shoulders. She looked into John's sad face.

"Molly are you sure.. are you sure it was him?" The tone of pleading brought tears to Molly's eyes, she let them fall. "John, I am so sorry, but it is him. The records all match.. the face was … but it is him. The DNA was a match." her breath caught and she continued. "he really his gone."

John broke at those cold final words. He ran his hand through his hair as if to rip those words out of his brain. His eyes showed all the pain and Molly closed the two steps and gathered him into her arms. Soothing words came out of her mouth but she couldn't recall what she said. It seemed she held him for hours till he got him self together. He pulled away from her with a quiet "thanks Molly" and literally quick marched out of the morgue.

She stood there looking at the doors pulling herself together before facing Mycroft. This part had to be spot on. She couldn't give anything away to him. When she turned Mycroft was standing next to the bag that contained his "brother"

She approached the quiet man... "Mycroft... he didn't suffer.. he.. he died upon impact. Blunt force trauma, multiple broken bones."

Mycroft just nodded at the information. He closed his eyes … and bowed his head. Molly heard he say to himself "I had hoped to mend …." then his head snapped up like he remembered who was standing next to him. Molly watched as Mycroft's amour fell back into place. He nodded and said "thank you Dr. Hooper. I'll be in touch about releasing the body for burial." then he too walked briskly out of her morgue.

Sherlock had heard and seen everything that had just transpired and wanted nothing more than to tell them both that he was alive. He had tried to give John a hint that it was all just a trick a magic trick, but knew that John had to believe him dead to save them all. Mycroft was a surprise to him. What had he meant.. Molly interrupted his thoughts then by opening the door and telling him it was time.

Getting a battered and bruised Sherlock Holmes back to her flat was interesting to say the least. The few people that saw the short Dr with the staggering hulk of a man paid them much attention. Just another girlfriend helping her sodden boyfriend back to his flat. Molly for her part thought her back was surly broken from supporting most of Sherlock's weight. When she finally got him through her door and settled on the couch. All she wanted to do was eat shower and sleep in that order but first she needed to sort out Sherlock first.

"hungry?"

"not really, Molly."

"OK, do you want to get into the bed you need to rest."

When no response came from Sherlock, Molly went into the kitchen and started to make a sandwich. She made some for Sherlock just in case he changed his mind. Grabbing sodas she took all of it into the sitting room. She set his in front of him, and settled into her favorite chair and started nibbling.

Sherlock seemed to rouse himself when Molly sat down. Seeing the sandwich in front of him and the soda, he reached out and started to eat. What he didn't notice was the small smile on Molly's face.

"good now that you have eaten something. I can give you some pain killers to help you sleep." Molly got up and went to her jacket. Pulling a bottle out of her coat she shook out two and walked them back to the man on her couch. He looked at the small pills and before he could say no(who was the mind reader now?) she explained why he would be taking them.

"you are going to be in a lot of pain Sherlock. Nothing can be done tonight or in the next few days till you heal. So take the pills and rest." she held her hand out not moving till he reached out and took them from her.

Unable to refute her logic Sherlock reached out and took the pills. He swallowed them with a swig of soda and leaned back into the sofa.

"Sherlock we need to get you cleaned up and into some sleep clothes before those pills knock you out." Come on. She took his hand and gently tugged him off the couch. She helped undress him all business and joined him in the shower.

Like a pagan worshiper of old, she cleaned the dirt for the street and smell of the morgue off him. She dried him off taking care of his ribs and his head wound. She helped him into the sleep pants she had got for him (was it just yesterday?) he moved like a sleep walker. After re-bandaging his ribs she helped him into the bed.

After a quick shower herself, she brushed out her hair and braided up and crawled into her side of the bed. One last look at the man lying beside her she turned away from him and whispered " good night Sherlock."


End file.
